Guidance
by In Pieces
Summary: AU. Being a father just wasn't easy for Vergil.
1. Invisible monsters I

**This a sequel to ****_Complications_**** and ****_Misconceptions_****, although it can stand on its own.**

**_Guidance _****will be a series of one shots that revolves about the father-son relationship of Vergil and Nero. They are not going to be uploaded in chronological order.**

**Without further ado, on with the story. Hope you like it.**

* * *

><p>Vergil had no troubles with rain, in any case, he was fond of it and it was one of the things he truly enjoyed. Rain had a certain quality to it; he didn't know if it was the roar of thunder that occasionally accompanied it or the subtle soothing quality that irrevocably arrived when it started to pour. Perhaps it even reminded him of something that happened not so long ago; the glorious beginning of a carefully crafted plan that circumstances didn't allow to be completed. Yet, failure was not a word he relished, he thought of it as a mistake, one he swore he would never repeat.<p>

At the time, the problem was Nero. He was too different from him, far too human for Vergil's liking. The little pest had decided that no matter how cold it was outside he wouldn't wear a jacket, and Vergil obliged. It would be Nero's problem. If he wanted to get sick so be it, he was not going to take care of him. Let it be a lesson for the kid for disobeying him.

Yet, he never expected rain or the occasional thunder. Those sounds acted as a lullaby and inevitably put Nero in a drowsy state that later became a tiredness that had him sleeping in one of the couches. And Vergil silently acknowledged that he would rather see the kid asleep that awake and bouncing around.

Vergil was beside the sleeping body of Nero, staring dully at the television screen waiting for the rain to quieten so they could leave when Dante awoke from his nap on his desk chair and walked over to the fridge to grab a beer.

The fridge's door opened with a clinking sound as bottles clashed with each other, followed by the high-pitched sound of aluminum snapping and the door closing harshly.

"The kid told you about his nightmares?" Dante asked out of the blue before taking a sip of his drink.

Vergil glanced at the sleeping child. "No." The kid could barely talk; he dragged words, spoke either too fast or nearly in a whisper. He confused words, tried to say something and end up naming something completely different. Hell, he even had to take a small pause to say his name correctly.

"Well," Dante started before taking a seat at the other end of the couch. "He's been dreaming about a so-called monster. He doesn't mess with his head yet, but appears far too often."

Vergil didn't have to ask. He knew exactly what it all was about.

Taking in consideration that Nero was only a partial Devil, Vergil even doubted that he would ever show signs of it. Still, Sparda's blood ran in his veins, even if it was just a fraction of it minimized by the human blood in his system.

Nero was a mistake. Vergil didn't deny it, but never say it out loud. It was a thought that pestered him deep down; every time he saw his son's face he saw his errors bluntly mocking him, a perfect example of what he had done wrong.

Yet, he wasn't going to deny him. He couldn't say that he loved Nero or felt a sense of affection towards the child; it was merely a primal instinct of protection for his spawn.

"Listen," Dante said before he could say anything. His tone drastically changed from the casual tone he showed before to a serious one. "Let him be a child. Let him believe that what he saw were just dreams; put a nightlight on his room and blame it on nightmares. Just…Let him be normal for a couple of years."

"He is my child. I do not care for your pathetic needs."

They both felt the atmosphere changing around them, this was no longer a casual conversation; it became a verbal battle that neither wanted to lose.

Dante signed and took a sip of his beer. "Kid doesn't have a mother, spends a lot of time in a questionable shop in one of the worst neighborhoods in the city, he doesn't have any friends other than us - for now-."

"Your point?" Vergil was not going to let Dante tell him what to do, if anything, he was the less suitable of the two to be taking decisions about Nero. Not that it truly mattered, anyways.

Dante leaned against the arm rest of the couch so he could face Vergil completely. "Kids are cruel, and he has enough to be set as an outcast. If you tell him what he is now, he's not going to keep it a secret. He's going to run around saying it to everyone. You are smart enough to figure out the rest."

* * *

><p>It was past eleven when Vergil and Nero left Devil May cry. Dante had offered them to stay for the night and, even though Nero would have no objection if he had been awake at the time, Vergil refused the offering and opted to leave.<p>

It wasn't a long walk from his home, and waking Nero to make him walk was a thought that didn't cross his mind, he merely carried the sleeping kid, fully knowing that he had woken up hallway there and then pretended to be asleep.

The kid didn't move until he was placed on top of his bed, where he worked his way around the cover and into the warmth of the blankets and pillows.

"Dad?" Nero called out, his voice coming out strangled and high pitched.

"Yes?" Vergil looked at his over his shoulder as he stood in the door frame.

"I think there's a monster in my room." Nero whispered in a hushed tone, almost as if afraid whatever monster was around would hear him revealing it.

"I recall telling you to stop eating sweets at night." Vergil replied after a pause before closing the door behind him.

Nero let out a shaky breath as he stared at the door and slowly but surely, everything around him started to look engulfed by darkness and, like every night, he placed the blankets over his head.

He wanted to call his father, tell him to stay with him for the night or at least until he feel asleep, to do anything that could make the thing that was bothering him go away.

Yet, he never heard that invisible call. Nero heard the door to Vergil's bedroom closing down the hallway and that was it.

Feeling suffocated and in need of air, he slowly poked his head from the blankets and gave the light seeping under the door a long stare before allowing his eyes to close.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading!<p>

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	2. Weaponry

Vergil had no idea of what Nero would become when he grew older, but he knew that he didn't want his child to have an ordinary human life.

The kid showed interest in weapons and often tried to convince him to let him play with his blade. He had no luck with those intentions with him, but Dante always seemed eager to please him. The red clad Devil would let him touch the hilts of his swords, help him hold one of his guns or carry him on his shoulders to show him a good view of the trophies he kept on the walls of his office.

Vergil didn't mind that others gave Nero presents -especially ones that kept him busy- but the cap gun Dante gave him was unpleasant. Nero spent most of the day running around firing the ring rounds that made a muffled gunshot sound and released smoke every time he pulled the plastic trigger.

It was distasteful, to say the least.

Dante kept encouraging him to use the toy and, when a laughing Nero stood in front of him and fired one of the rounds, Dante clasped his arm or side and said: "You got me kiddo, now run before I can get my hands on you." That was enough to send the already hyperactive child into a running spree as he pretended to shoot Dante's trophies. Dante didn't even chase him, if anything, he pretended he was going to stand up from his chair by slamming his palm with little force against the desk.

Vergil didn't want the kid to get used to guns; there were better options than fake gunpowder and bullets, he just had to show him.

The next time Dante saw Vergil and Nero, the kid had a plastic sword. He made a mess as he pretended to slash things with the toy that ended up in them being thrown in random directions.

But at one point, to Vergil's dismay, he pulled out the cap gun from his backpack and started to play with both weapons.

Vergil could only give him credit for being versatile.

* * *

><p>I'd like to thank everyone who added the story to their favorites or followed it.<p>

Shout-out to _semenosuke_ for that lovely review!

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	3. Obedience

"You are an imbecile." Vergil stated simply as he glanced at the white cast on Nero's right arm.

"That's all you're going to say?" Nero snapped as he released the spoon in his left hand and let it clash into the bowl full of cereal in front of him, splattering milk across the surface of the table. "I could've been killed back there!"

"Good, "Vergil said, unamused and unsurprised with his son's sudden outburst. "That would have taught you a valuable lesson about obedience. I told you to wait."

"You're an asshole."

Vergil raised an eyebrow and then, smirked. "I shall give you something to justify that."

The blue clad Devil disappeared into the hallway and Nero glared at the spot he'd been standing before continuing eating his breakfast with a frown. What was his father going to do? Take away from him everything he didn't care about?

Nero knew Vergil didn't need food but needed water; not exactly to drink, but for his meticulous cleaning habits, which meant he also needed to pay the gas bill to have his scalding hot showers. He needed electricity, at least for his nightly reading, or so Nero wanted to believe.

With that in mind, Nero cared little about those things. He had a job; he didn't earn much but it was enough to allow him to buy what he needed until the old man decided to stop being dramatic.

But, when he saw a shiny silver tip poking out from the hallway he muttered under his breath: "You have to be kidding me."

"Are you seriously going to do that?" He asked with a mix of anger and disbelief as he forgot about his meal to pursue his father, only to catch a glimpse of his back and his sword. "I'm not ten anymore; you can't just confiscate my things."

"You still act like a child." He heard his father's muffled answer coming from his room.

Nero sighed as he entered Vergil's bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. Vergil ignored him. A quick scan of his immaculate bedroom told him that he hid Red Queen.

"Leave." Vergil commanded.

"Not until you give me back my sword."

"Leave," Vergil repeated. "I will not tell you a third time."

Nero smirked and shook his head as he crossed his arms around his chest.

"As you wish." Vergil said and left the room.

Nero took the action as a small victory even if he had no intention of making a deep search in Vergil's room to find Red Queen. He looked under the bed and quickly glanced inside the closet as well as behind the thick curtains. There was nothing there.

Defeated and sure Vergil had taken it with him and had it somewhere in that long coat he always wore, he left the room. His father was sitting calmly at the table with a steaming cup of tea and an old book placed in front of him. Nero raised an eyebrow and stopped when he noticed the door to his room was wide open.

"Oh, come on!"

After a few minutes of his intense search for lost items, Nero emerged from his room at stared at his father, who simply flipped a page of his book before raising the mug to his lips.

"You don't even like guns or use a damn cellphone, Vergil."

"Clean the house, buy groceries and do the laundry and I will consider giving them back within a week." Vergil said, his eyes never leaving page on his book.

Nero dejectedly obliged. It wasn't surprising considering what Vergil had done the last time Nero disobeyed him.

Still, he gave him back his weapons and cellphone two weeks after that for being a prick.

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading!<p>

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	4. Meals

Contrary to popular belief, Vergil could cook. He could do basic things, nothing too especial or fancy, just the necessary to be able to feed Nero with a decent meal three times a day. So far the kid had never criticized his cooking or the repetitive choice of meals.

Truthfully, Vergil had no time to learn how to prepare a vast variety of dishes, and Nero didn't complain as long as he didn't eat the same thing in consecutive days; what he did complain about were vegetables. It was a hard task to get him to eat anything remotely healthy, especially when he claimed that he was allergic to anything green yet had no doubts when eating grapes or apples.

It was more annoying and difficult than Vergil wanted it to be.

"I don't like it. It tastes yucky." Nero complained as he pushed away his bowl with salad for the third time and crossed his arms.

"You have to eat it." Vergil replied as he slid the bowl towards Nero.

"No! Why don't you eat it?" Nero retorted and, once again, pushed the bowl away from him, this time towards Vergil.

"I do not need it."

Nero scoffed. "If you don't need it then neither do I."

"I will not let you leave this table until you eat it."

"That's unfair!" Nero cried out.

Vergil sighed. "Eat."

"You never eat." Nero pointed out and then, after a pause, he added with curiosity: "How come you are not dead yet?"

"We are different." Vergil said simply. His patience was wearing thin, and the last thing he wanted to do was to explain with detail the situation.

"Why?"

"Because we do not share the exact same blood." Vergil just had enough with the kid asking why to everything he said. He understood it was a stage in every child's life -he had been in the same situation in his early years-, yet never knew how maddening it must have been for his parents to answer every single one of his inquiries.

"Why?"

"You know why." Vergil hissed.

Nero stared at his father with wide eyes for a few seconds, noticing he pissed him off. "…Why do I know why?"

"Go to your room. No dessert, television or games for the rest of the day."

"Oh ok." Nero hopped off the chair with a goofy grin and left the kitchen.

Vergil could not let his spawn win.

He stored the salad in the fridge and put fruit on top the next morning and made Nero eat it for breakfast.

* * *

><p>Happy Valentines Day! Hope you had a great day.<p>

semenosuke: Well, Nero's definitely not a saint! That's a great suggestion; I didn't have time to write this week so I promise I'll make that the next chapter. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	5. The morning after

She left him. Them.

Vergil, for once, considered himself foolish. He'd made one mistake after another for the last months and now that he thought it through, he knew he should've seen it coming.

She was frail, weak, a coward. He considered her only as an outlet, and now he was far too deep to have second thoughts about it.

If it hadn't been for the lousy neighbor in her apartment complex he would have never known about him. She saw him knocking on the door of her former apartment and, without wasting time, had pocked her head from her open door and called him, deeming it urgent. They had never met.

He was about to decline when the elderly lady stated the fact: she moved out a week ago and left her child in her custody, claiming she needed to run errands and promising to be back soon.

Vergil didn't even know she was pregnant. He didn't saw her often, and the last time they met she must have been oblivious to her pregnancy.

He had no choice but to spend the night at a nearby hotel. The lady had given him an infant car seat and a ridiculous brown diaper back with a couple of baby bottles, a half-empty can of powdered milk, diapers and baby wipes. His transporting methods were reduced, not to mention he felt like a fool walking with that damned thing on his shoulder. He made it a priority to buy a more suitable container the next day.

The hotel was half-decent for his standards, yet it was the closest he could find from the apartment complex. He left with disdain the bag on the center of the bed and stared at the sleeping baby. They were just alike, he couldn't deny it, they had the same hair and eye color, but he noticed the shape of his eyes and nose resembled his mother's.

Vergil wasn't afraid of taking care of a child or becoming a parent, yet they were thoughts that never crossed his mind. He had plans that required his full attention and concentration and now he could see them crumbling on his mind, he couldn't do much with the child around, at least for the time being.

The calculating part on his mind thought about leaving the child behind and moving on, abandoning him in an orphanage or even in the room he was staying the night, yet there was an urge inside his mind that refused to cave into those thoughts, a blood call, a strong yet unwanted bond that came from his demonic roots.

He was his child, after all, he couldn't let a human raise him with foolish assumptions and meaningless lessons. He would have to do it on his own, he had no choice.

His name was Nero. Giving him that name was the only smart thing the mother did.

Vergil grunted when a strange odor captured his attention and the infant woke up and started to bawl loudly. He awkwardly raised the child and held him at arm's length and then, to his dismay, he realized the smell was coming from the Nero's diaper.

Out of all the possible outcomes, the child had chosen to fill his diaper. Vergil grabbed the bag from the bed with his left hand and used his right arm to grab a hold of the crying child. He entered the bathroom and laid the kid down in the free space beside the sink, inevitably flattening the contents of the diaper and sticking them into the skin of the child.

With furrowed brows, he discarded the used diaper and, noticing the sticky and warm mess in Nero's buttocks, he decided that simple toilet paper or towels just wouldn't be enough to clean him. He opted to clean him in the tub with the warm water coming out of the faucet and a sponge. He had to throw away the sponge afterwards, deeming it unusable.

Still, even after he had cleaned Nero, the tub and sink, the lingering smell was hard to bear.

Still frowning and now with a clean Nero, he moved towards the bed and lay down the child in the bed, watching him move and inspect everything on his line of sight.

Unfortunately, it took him little time to start crying again for an unknown reason.

"What do you want now?" Vergil inquired as he held his child. Nero answered with louder cries.

Thinking that perhaps he just wanted to be rocked, he brought him closer to his chest and started to move his arms softly side to side with no avail. He raised an eyebrow when a tiny hand trying to sweep the fabric of his coat to pat his chest.

He found the situation annoyingly amusing.

After a call to room service, he was provided with a kettle full of warm water that was used to prepare the baby's formula. Vergil felt odd feeding such a small and fragile creature, and found it even stranger that the creature was his.

Making the infant burp was another displeasing task Vergil had to endure. The small patch of vomit traveled down the small towel he placed on his shoulder and into his coat. He was not amused.

By nighttime he felt drained and was craving rest from the little pest and, to his surprise, so did Nero. Having no crib of anything alike for the drowsy child, he placed him at his side and put pillows on the opposite side to minimize Nero's movement.

Vergil hated to admit it, but he needed assistance until he found a suitable place to live. He could no longer rely on hotel rooms.

He could only think about one person that could aid him.

* * *

><p>B: Actually, they didn't cross my mind! I did thought about Kyrie but in a different context, never involving Vergil's reaction and, well, Vergil trying to talk about sex with Nero is now going to become a priority. Thanks for the suggestions!<p>

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	6. Invisible monsters II

Dante had never seen Vergil like that.

His brother was composed, calm in the oddest of situations. He'd seen the way he fought and the tactics he used. He remembered a Vergil who calculated the attacks so carefully that it reminded him of a complicated choreographed dance; he maneuvered his way around, knew when, where and how to strike. He had his own rules; his pride and honor were far too stuck in his head to set him off easily, but it never meant he was an easy or naïve foe.

And now he was enraged. And there was nothing they could do to stop him.

It was a crude fight and Dante was sure his brother was not thinking straight. The way he moved and attacked seemed overly heavy, animalistic; he was doing too much, making sure to kill every one of creatures causing as much pain and misery he could manage to give.

Vergil was a flash of blue with a speck of silver from Yamato; blood pooled around his boots and was splattered on his clothes in a mess of crimson and black pieces of flesh. Dante could hear him grunting with every particularly heavy blow, distorted by the effect of his Devil being unleashed.

Dante had seen him like that before; he knew the exact amount of pain every attack made. Vergil was making overkills, beating the lifeless remains of the creatures into a bloody mess of guts.

He was giving them a clear message: Don't you dare to touch him again.

Vergil stopped only when he deemed the damage had been enough and allowed his human form to take over. When Dante saw his face, he saw neither pride nor regret; Vergil didn't care about what he had done, the bleeding diagonal gash going from Nero's forehead to his cheek was his only point of focus.

Nero had stopped sobbing a while back, but tears were still rolling down his face and, when he saw Vergil walking over to them, he grabbed a fistful of Dante's coat and hid behind him as the subtle cries began to be heard again.

For once, Nero was afraid of Vergil.

Dante understood both parts, he knew that Vergil wanted to protect his child and punish those who caused him harm but his method was not exactly the most appropriated, especially when Nero got to see the hell he could unleash and thus, he understood the fear and panic the kid felt.

And for now, it seemed better to let them both do what they wanted to do and stand aside.

So Nero kept clinging to his coat and Vergil only glanced at him as he walked past them.

* * *

><p>Promise the next chapter is going to be Vergil giving the sex talk.<p>

Thanks for all the support!

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	7. Sex

Vergil felt it was his obligation to assure his spawn had knowledge of it, even if he found the task unpleasant.

Dante seemed like a more suitable option to speak to the child about it, seeing he had far more experience on that field and no shame to speak about the little details that Vergil would rather dismiss, but the blue clad Devil knew that he couldn't recur to his brother for aid. It was a cowardly move that he refused to make.

He had to choose a moment that ensured he would have Nero's complete attention, and turning off the television near the ending of a silly show Nero was engrossed in did the trick.

"What was that for?" Nero exclaimed, feebly glaring at his father.

"We must speak."

"It can wait." Nero reached over to grab the controller from Vergil's hand and frowned when he moved it out of reach and, realizing Vergil would not stop pestering him until he gave in, he sighed. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Intercourse."

"Hell no."

They both noticed the tension in the air and Nero's constant shifting only indicated he was anxious to get it over with, yet Vergil only stared.

"Get this over with already." Nero sighed with annoyance and crossed his arms against his chest.

"How much do you know about intercourse?"

Nero hid the smile that threatened to form on his lips. Vergil had no clue how to speak of such matters with him. They never really talked much, they were just comments or commands, nothing ever too serious and now Vergil was stepping into uncharted territory. If he was going to have to listen, he might as well get something out of it, no matter how embarrassing it would turn he would give Vergil hell until he decided to shut up.

"Nothing really. They don't teach you that kind of stuff at school." A little scratch at the top of his nose was enough to keep Nero composed.

Vergil's expression changed. He wanted to keep it casual but now he had no choice but to break it down to tidbits. It failed to get unnoticed by Nero.

Vergil nodded slightly. "Intercourse is a sexual act between a man and a woman-"

"What about homosexuals?"

"Between beings," Vergil corrected, sighing out of annoyance. "Reproduction ensures that species continue existing."

"Alright…How do you have sex?" Nero let his elbows rest on the table and brought his intertwined hands in front of his mouth to hide his smirk

"In a male case, you insert your erected member into a female's cavity."

"Oral cavity?" Nero blurted. He knew he was going to regret it later, but at least he would have something solid to laugh at with Dante. They were not going to let Vergil live up to that.

"In case of oral sex, yes."

"Have you had oral sex before?" The question sounded far more casual than Nero thought it would be. The thought of casually recording the conversation crossed his mind yet he quickly discarded the option; last thing he wanted was to recreate the awkwardness of the situation and his silly questions.

Vergil shook his head in reply.

"Alright, I get the concept." Vergil's mood lightened at Nero's words, yet it only lasted scares seconds before Nero asked with a tone that made Vergil's eyebrows furrow. "How do men have sex with each other?"

"Ask Dante. That is out of my line of experience." Nero snorted to suppress a laugh. Vergil wasn't fooled by it and glared. "This is a serious matter, Nero." He scolded.

"Aren't you supposed to be talking about diseases and alike?" Nero asked, ignoring Vergil's comment.

"Wear a condom, do not be foolish." Vergil simply replied.

"…That's it? You're not going to tell me what happens if I catch something?"

"I do not care for those trivialities, I am immune to them." Vergil dismissed.

"Yeah, you are but I'm not. What if I die?" Nero could tell that by Vergil's expression he found the question unamusing. Nero believed that made it even more comical.

"Would suit you well for disobeying my advice."

"Advice? Since when _you _give me advice?" Nero leaned forward, letting one arm support his chin.

"I do not want any grandchildren." After a slight pause, Vergil added: "You are far too young, and that friend of yours is only creating poorer judgments in your mind."

"She's my girlfriend; deal with it." Vergil ignored his comment.

The blue clad Devil made a motion to stand up and stopped when Nero made another question. "How many women have you been with? You don't seem like the guy that would have sex at all." It was, by far, the only question Nero was genuinely interested in. Vergil was giving him the opportunity to ask away, he sure as hell was not going to miss it.

"One. Is that all?"

Nero raised an eyebrow. He didn't know how to feel about it. Not that it truly mattered anyway, it was just surprising; Vergil was a stuck up and the fact that one woman could manage to stand his guts was remarkable, more than one would be some sort of miracle.

"One last thing "Nero glanced down and pressed a few buttons of his cellphone and watched a little red light lit up above the screen before casually lifting the cellphone to pretend to look at the time. "How do women have sex?" The face of his overly conservative father was priceless. He decided that a video would be more hilarious than a voice recording.

Dante was going to love that.

* * *

><p>Eh, I apologize if they seemed OOC.<p>

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	8. Cold

All Nero had left were a sword and a pendant. Nothing else and nothing more.

Dante told him that he didn't know it was him or else he would have never done it. He told him that over and over again, perhaps to make sure he understood or to ease the guilt, Nero didn't know and didn't care. Dante apologized.

Words were powerless; there was nothing they could do. Not now.

Nero listened carefully to Dante's story, asking why in certain parts and how in others. He wanted to know it all. But Dante didn't have the answers that he desperately strived for. All Dante knew is that he had been in pain; Nero wanted to believe that Dante did him a favor, and that he would have been in worse conditions if he was still there, but he knew it was all a futile cause.

He wanted him back.

He couldn't blame Dante even if he wanted to, not in the condition he was. He killed his twin brother in cold blood; he toyed around with a faceless knight and realized far too late about his mistake. He was protecting himself, he didn't know.

And most of all, he was hurt. Vergil was all he had left. All they had left. The pain he felt was real, the blame and shame enlaced with his words were real too. And his silence said more than all the words he had said over the night.

Still, Nero resented Dante, and found it nearly impossible to be near him without snapping and placing all the blame on him.

He opted to go to an empty house were there once had been two. He barely had the strength to lock the door behind him.

He felt strangely drawn towards Vergil's cold room even if there was nothing in there for him. He sat on the bed and stared at what had been his belongings. The objects and furniture had a small coat of dust on them even if Nero took the task to clean the room twice a week in case he came back. He knew he would have been upset knowing that he had been touching his things, maybe he wouldn't even thank him for the effort, but he did it anyways.

He wasn't the best father, but at least he tried.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.<p> 


	9. Kyrie

Nero could feel the atmosphere around them change with the tension of the moment.

He took one last look between Vergil's untouched dish of pan fried salmon and rice with vegetables and Kyrie's face.

At least he was drinking the coffee she made.

Nero could almost hear him say it was the only thing she'd done right.

It was the first time she visited Capulet City and Nero's home; the logical thing to do seemed to meet her boyfriend's father. He figured she now knew why he refused countless times and tried to coax her to have dinner in one of the decent restaurants downtown.

Nero was semi aware he was glaring at Vergil now.

It took Kyrie more than a month to convince her brother to let her travel alone to Capulet. Credo wasn't overly fond of Nero, and the idea of letting her baby sister spend a whole day with the guy he believed was a senseless bastard not worthy of her sister's company was too much to ask. Nero had no clue how Kyrie finally managed to persuade him.

When he saw her arriving at Capulet, she had a shopping basket on her hand and a warm smile on her lips. When Nero questioned the basket she answered that, according to an elderly friend of hers, Fortuna's vegetables and fish were tastier than Capulet's.

Nero tried to get the idea out of her head and in the end he couldn't fight back. She wanted to make a good first impression since it had been rude to not even introduce herself over the phone and simply sending her regards with Nero. He never told her that Vergil never received those little greetings.

Kyrie liked the idea of being in Capulet and giving out a little gesture of cordiality. After all, she and Nero had been together for almost a year, and while his father was barely mentioned, Credo, the only Kyrie could look up as a fatherly figure, was present in their lives. She believed it should be reciprocal.

Nero didn't talk much about his father. If anything, he mentioned Dante and still not so often.

Nero was well aware that his father knew about Kyrie and didn't give a damn about it.

And now he saw that he was wrong. He had a problem with her.

Kyrie was a good girl. Nero knew she would try to mark Vergil as shy and not label him as an asshole, but he wasn't going to keep him mouth shut about it.

"She spent the whole afternoon doing that, you know? The least you could have done was taste it." Nero hissed as he crossed his arms against his chest and kicked the front door to close it. Five minutes ago he bid Kyrie farewell and watched her go in a medium sized boat with around fifteen other people. She worried that Vergil didn't approved of her company. Nero tried his best to hide his anger and dismiss Kyrie's worries.

Nero had a slight idea why Vergil was so rude with her. Dante warned him about it about six months ago when he found out he had a girlfriend, yet Nero had brushed it aside. Now he comprehended the mistake he made when he talked about Kyrie or even showed signs of her being part of his life.

"I don't know what your problem is," Nero added when Vergil ignored his first attempt to make a conversation. "But you were an asshole."

"She is not suitable for you."

"Why? Because she is human?" Nero sneered. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm human as well."

"You are not." Vergil's reply was flat, yet Nero could sense the anger stirring deep down.

"Are you ever going to accept it? I am not you. You made a mistake with my mother, so be it. I am not going to do what you want me to." Nero made a pause and returned the glare Vergil was giving him with the same force. "I don't take any pride knowing I'm part Devil, not now, not ever. I want to feel normal for once."

"You are not normal, you will never be considered normal." There was something odd in Vergil's voice, something Nero didn't care to decipher at the time. "You must accept what you are."

Nero laughed bitterly. "I'm a monster, just like you are; I have no trouble accepting it. The difference is that I fight it back."

Nero reached for the doorknob and twisted it with more force than necessary. "You have no idea about how much I wish Dante was my father."

If Vergil ever made a further comment, Nero didn't hear it over the sound of the door closing loudly.

* * *

><p>Sorry for taking so long to update!<br>This is the second version of "Kyrie" since I had some doubts about the first one and pretty much had to write it again from scratch. I guess I could upload it later on but it's pretty much the same ending with a different start and a guest appearance from Dante.

Anyways, thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	10. Father's Day

Vergil didn't care about holidays of any kind, they were trivialities that he had no time to endure but unfortunately, now that he had Nero, he had to at least pretend to celebrate them. He could always drop Nero off in Dante's house and make him celebrate with his bubbly pest, but today the last thing he wanted to do was keep those two together.

Nero burst into his room at around six am to give him a secret present, even if Vergil knew what it was all along he kept quiet. He didn't have a cellphone, but Nero's preschool required a number in case of emergency and he'd given them Dante's. They had a meeting of sorts to acquire funds for the gifts and Dante didn't have second doubts to give them the 10 dollars they were asking for. After explaining what it was in a mocking tone, he claimed that he would've given them double if needed.

The gift was a square wooden key holder with Nero's picture in the middle, nothing too fancy or complicated. His child was proud of his work, even if all he did was trace the word 'Daddy' at the top with some kind of colorful glue

Vergil would've preferred that it said father, daddy sounded too…pretentious.

Still, he hung it next to the front door after Nero's continuous whining that almost turned into a tearful hissy fit just to keep his mouth shut.

Vergil barely used it, but never took it down.

* * *

><p>"Do not touch it." Vergil's words surprised Nero. It was just an old handcraft and Vergil wasn't the kind of guy to hold sentimental value over things, let alone objects Nero knew he disliked.<p>

"It's trash." Nero's attempts to comprehend Vergil's protectiveness over the damn thing came to an end when he saw the devilish smirk forming on his father's lips.

"You cried when I mentioned I desired to get rid of it. I fear what would happen to you if I took it down."

Nero snorted, finding his father's words unamusing. Vergil was one to hold grudges.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.<p> 


	11. Mischief

Dante regretted nothing.

The idea came to him one night when he was sipping a beer and watching an infomercial about some miraculous cream that everyone could tell was bullshit the moment the cute blond chick that served as a host opened her mouth and started to babble about how much the product helped her in her acting career. Right.

He watched it because sellers were smart, they weren't going to put some wrinkled-faced grannies that weren't pleasing to the eyes, they opted for the supermodel kind of girls that smiled and looked pretty and damn, he appreciated the effort even if the whole thing was some mindless advertising that made no sense.

Because, come on, what did a moisturizer have to do with chicks getting hit on the face by water coming out of a hose? Oh, it was waterproof. It still made no sense.

He was so fixated on the damn thing that he didn't realized how his beer was slowly tilting towards his body, eventually dropping the cold liquid on his shirt.

Dante cussed and left the can on the floor as he feebly tried to stop the liquid's trajectory towards the couch and failed miserably. That was going to leave a nasty stain. After it dried he was going to flip the cushion so the spot would be facing down. Like hell he was going to scrub the damn thing off.

After glancing one last time at the mess on his couch, an idea came into his mind that was far too good to let it be just a simple thought.

The next morning, Vergil shrugged off his parental duties and left Nero at Dante's shop claiming that he had important matters to attend so it was just him, the hyperactive 6 year old kid and his backpack full of random crap that would be mostly ruined by the end of the day.

"Hey kid, want to do something fun?"

"Like what?" The little pest inquired; gaze still locked on the TV screen that was barely a few inches away from his face.

"Play a little prank on your old man." Dante smirked when the kid turned his head with a grin on his face. "Remember that the other day you were playing with some green sticky thing?" Nero nodded. "Where did you get it?"

"It was slime; I made it."

"Think you can make more of it?"

Nero got to his feet and dusted the back of his pants. "If you have sweetened condensed milk and cornstarch I can." He gladly accepted the 20 bucks Dante shoved on his hands and, smirking, left the shop to gather the supplies.

Dante thought it was pointless that the kid had to heat that thing, even though was amusing to see him on a chair so he could comfortably stir the milky substance.

"What are you doing with that?"

"Making it red, it was the only color I could find," Nero explained as he carefully let a few drops of red coloring fall onto the white substance inside a pot in the counter. "This might stain his clothes a bit so we have to be careful."

Dante snatched the little plastic container and poured half of it, turning the surface of their little experiment into a bright red that quickly spread and covered the surface. Nero snickered as he stirred the mixture and contemplated the rich color.

"If he gets really upset I'm going to cry and say that you made me do it."

Dante smirked. "I'm not the one that's going to get grounded anyways."

Now, they just had to wait.

Nero kept bouncing up and down, finding that the cartoons on the TV just couldn't capture his attention and distract his thoughts from the imaginary scenario that was playing on his mind.

Dante had placed the red slime in a dirty plastic container of questionable origin so it would be easier to throw it to their target. Plus, he couldn't picture the kid carrying around a pot without hitting himself in the face or worse, releasing his grip on the handle and hitting Vergil in the face when he splattered him.

Nero turned towards the door abruptly when he heard the door being opened and met Dante's gaze in the process, who merely gave him a small nod before focusing on the figure making its way into the shop.

"About time you decided to show up," Dante said as a greeting and Vergil took it as just a comment, ignoring the connotation. "Your kid is giving me a headache."

"I am glad you are enjoying his company."

Dante glanced momentarily at Nero's figure attempt to be stealthy as he walked hurriedly towards Vergil while they were talking, taking the opportunity as a distraction. Knowing that Nero could be clingy at times, Dante was sure his brother thought that this was one of the kid's annoying fits and didn't bother to turn around until his back was hit with the sticky substance that was thrown with the right angle so it could hit the back of his head and drip down his coat.

Vergil brought his hand to the back of his head and let his fingers get soaked in the crimson substance that now was pooling on the floor. The plastic container hit the floor with a faint thud as Nero dropped it to grip his stomach as he laughed and Dante snickered.

Needless to say, Nero was deprived from his afternoon cartoons, but seeing his father with pinkish hair for the next three days was worth it.

* * *

><p>It's been nearly a month since the last update, I'm really sorry! The Winter Soldier movie ruined my life and I've spent my days crying over Bucky. I swear I'll update more often.<p>

Thank you so much for reading!

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	12. Denial

Nero never told Vergil about his hunting trips.

It wasn't that Vergil over-protected him, he just believed that he wasn't suitable for combat, at least not yet and he refused to say when. Nero was not going to stand aside to weep and wonder; if Vergil wasn't going to serve as some sort of guide then he would find a way to figure things out. He didn't need his approval or aid.

Usually Nero would go home with little scratched and wounds that would heal in a day or two, but that time was different. He felt the adrenaline reaching its pinnacle as the demon took a swing and dug its claws into his forearm almost without an effort. Blood stained his clothes and the demon's raging face until he swung Red Queen with as much force as he could muster and beheaded the creature. The claws remained inside his flesh, and taking them out was the worst kind of pain Nero had experienced.

Sometimes, he would casually mention tidbits of information to Dante, but he figured that if he showed up with a piece of his coat wrapped up on his arm as a makeshift bandage he would speak up. It's wasn't that he didn't trust him; Dante was the one that taught him a few things when Vergil had dismissed his eagerness and told him that he should learn by himself. If anything, he felt that having a conversation with Dante had an air of confidence that he didn't have with Vergil, but Dante knew that there were certain limits, and so did Nero.

Plus, he was sure the tip of a claw was still embed into his forearm and he doubted Dante had anything that resembled tweezers, utensil that was on his home's first aid kit since Vergil claimed that when he was a kid more often than not he had to remove splinters from his hands after he played with the flimsy wooden swings at the park.

Vergil was on his room with the door closed when he arrived, making Nero's stealthy plan relatively easy. He snatched the first aid kit from the bathroom and locked himself in his room. Vergil had taken away his powerful yet small speaker around a month ago after he warned him not only once, but twice to keep his music down, only to be ignored. He had nothing to muffle sounds now.

He gritted his teeth and grunted as he dug through the wound with the tweezers to remove the now fragmented pieces of nails and making a bloody mess on his nightstand as he tossed the removed pieces on its surface.

Pouring alcohol on the wound was the thing that almost made him scream.

When he was finished, he stared at his bandaged limb and the tattered coat he loved on the floor, splattered with blood. He still had to figure out an alibi for that.

Vergil didn't question his son when he saw that he was wearing a crimson sweater that he rarely wore, and merely told him to change into something else after Nero scratched his forearm and, with a little glance at his direction, and nonchalantly stated that the fabric made his skin itch.

The wound wasn't supposed to itch, at least not the way it did. He expected waves of pain as the bandages made slight friction against his flesh, but not the need to scrape his skin off with his fingernails.

He left the shower running as he stripped and carefully peeled of the blood soaked bandages from his arm.

"Shit." He breathed as he let the bloody bandage fall to the floor and stared at the foreign marks on his arm. Scratching the wound would've never made his skin look like that, not with the thick layer of bandages on it. His skin looked red, coarse, and mangled, nearly resembling scales on his elbow and moving up to the sides of his forearm. He gently pressed the ill looking area with his index finger, feeling the rough texture brush against his fingertip.

Sighing, he pulled one of the 'scales', hoping that it was just a strange looking scab and immediately regretted the action when he felt an odd discomfort accompanied with a touch of pain that made the entire area feel sore.

Perhaps he was being paranoid, but he could almost swear he saw a hint on blue on the veins that were visible on the back of his arm.

* * *

><p>He couldn't hide it anymore, not when it was starting to reach his hand.<p>

"I need to talk to you." Nero called out when he saw a flash of blue trailing down the hallway from his bedroom. Nero thought he was ignoring him until he saw Vergil standing outside his room, coatless, which was an odd sight. "There's something wrong with me."

"I am aware of it," Vergil stated and strode over to Nero, his eyes drifting towards the eerily glowing arm that Nero casually tried to hide behind his back, earning a glare from his father. He made a motion and Nero begrudgingly held it up for him to see.

"You have awoken." Vergil stated, making Nero frown.

"Are you sure?"

The times Nero had seen Vergil use his Devil Trigger were so scarce he could count them with the fingers of one of his hands so, when Vergil suddenly triggered in front of him he was taken back.

The atmosphere around them changed, it felt heavy, stuffed. Nero stared at his right arm as he felt a strange tingling sensation on it, making his fingers twitch involuntarily.

"I am certain." Vergil remarked, the sound of his voice heavily distorted by the change. He raised his right arm, letting Nero take in the image of clawed fingers and tough, coarse skin that acted almost like armor around his body.

Vergil definitely wasn't a sight for sore eyes.

"So I'm going to look like you?"

"No," Vergil replied as he dismissed his trigger. "You are a partial Devil; your transformation will be limited as well."

When Nero asked if there was anything he could do to about it, Vergil replied that he could get rid of the bandages. He didn't.

* * *

><p>Sorry if it's a bit..odd.<p>

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	13. Shopping

Vergil never pictured himself in a supermarket buying baby food.

It was an annoying task, to say the least. There were too many brands, shapes, flavors and information that he supposedly had to care about to give his child optimal nutrition. Not to mention the hideous hybrid between a cart and a shopping basket. He preferred to use a simple basket, but humans had silly mentalities that somehow decided that it was more convenient to eradicate the original designs and adopt that annoying basket with wheels.

He had to hunch slightly to reach the handle.

After quickly scanning the cans of formula, he grabbed the one closer to him and placed it in the basket beside the gallons of bottled water. They all worked the same, revising all of them was a waste of time.

He moved towards the half-full supermarket, glancing left and right as he tried to find the next item on his imaginary list. Markets supposedly had big, flashy signs on top of every aisle indicating the type of product that was there, but apparently this one just didn't give a damn. He couldn't blame them.

He'd the luck of being alone on the other aisles, but this one had a couple of women wandering around. He stopped at a reasonable distance from the diapers, once again giving the titles and flashy bold letters of the plastic packages a wary, uninteresting glance.

A grey package that sat on the lowest shelf caught his attention thanks to the big, red letters that mentioned that it had parenting guide cards inside to help parents raise their newborns. Vergil couldn't comprehend why people would like to take futile advice from a piece of paper.

If anything, he thought it was worth a shot to have the decency to choose diapers wisely, lest Nero would have problems later on that he didn't want to get involved with.

A feminine voice spoke to his left, belonging to a young woman on her mid-twenties. "First time shopping for diapers?"

Vergil nodded, an eyebrow raised.

"I know it sound silly, but try the KidTips, they have a couple of interesting tricks." She tapped the grey package of diapers under her arm to make a point before casually walking away.

Vergil frowned. Hopefully not all of his trips to markets and alike would have to deal with useless small talks and advice that he didn't care to hear.

He didn't need pep talks from a piece of paper or that strange friendliness that the people in the baby aisles had. He could sort things out on his own.

Turns out the damn diapers had interesting facts. Still, he pretended that he didn't buy them because of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Quick update: I won't be able to upload anything in the next two weeks or so. On the 13th I have two college admission exams and I really need to study and stop procrastinating.<strong>

**Thank you for all the support and I'm sorry about the delay!**


	14. Father's Day II

Did Vergil really want to be sitting in a crowded movie theater full of rowdy teenagers and a few kids spilling drinks and throwing popcorn for two and a half hours?

No, he didn't. But he didn't have much of a choice.

Nero had been a nuisance for two weeks; he would stare at the television screen with his mouth open every time he caught as much as a glimpse of the peculiar metal suit they used in the movie or heard the dramatic, orchestral music that could be heard when the title flashed for a few seconds on the screen.

He was far too hyped about it for Vergil's liking, and he was pleased to know that the kid was going to see it with someone else. Dante offered to go with him, and shared the kid's excitement, although not to Nero's extent, it only was a simple: "Yeah, it's gonna be good, kid."

Everything was good until Dante went out of town and made no promises to be there in time. Good thing he said it on the phone, or else he would've been the one listening to Nero's complains for ten minutes until he ultimately decided that he didn't need him and could enjoy it on his own.

Maybe if he hadn't been foolish enough to try to purchase his ticket a day before, he wouldn't have to deal with his problem. It was a sixteen plus movie and he didn't look a day over ten; cinema politics deemed it necessary for him to go with an adult for some reason.

That was when hell got loose and the kid decided that, since father's day was close by, he could kill two birds with one stone.

Vergil saw it coming when he came home, fuming and giving him a full rant about how the movie theater's policies were bullshit because some kids had already seen it on their own and that the world was conspiring against him.

Vergil wished his kid stopped being so dramatic.

When Nero finally finished talking, he sat on top of the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, glaring at the TV. It took Vergil one glance to see his facial expression soften slightly and the gears turning inside his head.

Vergil didn't like movies, they were a waste of time and he could think of thousands of things he could be doing with his time rather than being still watching a giant screen. But God forbid he turned down Nero's generous offer of taking him to the movies.

"This is the first time I try to do something nice for you and you don't want to do it; you can't even consider going. What kind of father are you? I've been saving up for _weeks_ just to give you a surprise. You always have to ruin everything with excuses."

"Nero…"

"No, I don't want to hear it. When was the last time we spent time together? You don't even sit at the table with me when I'm eating. Normal fathers do that, you know? They spend time with their sons and appreciate everything they do for them and you can't even do that-"

"Be quiet," Vergil hissed, making Nero exhale the air he was accumulating to keep ranting. "We're going."

Nero didn't even bother to hide his triumphant smirk.

That's what got him inside that awful cinema that smelled of butter mixed with candy and whose floors were sticky with sugar from sodas that had been spilled countless times.

There was nothing spectacular about seeing giant robots fighting strange creatures in a post-apocalyptic universe, or how the creatures poorly resembled Devils with odd tails sprouting from the middle of their backs.

Perhaps the most pleasant thing about his so-called present was the peculiar taste of buttered popcorn mixed with caramel popcorn, courtesy of Nero.

Needless to say, Nero didn't receive a thank you for his 'effort'.

* * *

><p>Thank you so much for reading and happy father's day!<p>

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	15. Mother

Nero was certain Vergil wouldn't give him even a tidbit of information about his mother.

He never spoke about her and, now that he thought about it, neither did Dante.

When he first became curious he turned to Dante, seeking any kind of information. Dante had none, not even her name; all he knew was that she left Vergil. Dante didn't try to gather more info about it, if Vergil wanted to talk he was willing to listen, but it had been over a decade and so far his brother had never brought up the subject, not even to share a spiteful remark.

Nero was more than surprised when Vergil nonchalantly asked what he wanted to know. Nero wasn't surprised that he knew little about her.

When Nero said he wanted to look for her, Vergil gave him an address and a name.

He never warned him it was a blind chase or that the address he gave him was now a cheap residence for resident junkies and alcoholics. Her apartment was empty; the neighbors knew no one with that name and from that on it was simply impossible to track her down. After all, Eliza was a common name that he heard once or twice when he visited Fortuna, and Vergil didn't even know if she was born there.

"I want to know your side of the story." Those were the first words he said when he came back from Fortuna after a fruitless two day stay in the island. His mood had been bitter on his stay and he decided not to visit Kyrie for her own sake; the last thing she needed was to have him sulking on her couch, refusing to talk about it.

"Are you certain?"

Nero nodded.

Vergil didn't sugar coat anything, gave himself any more credit than he deserved or disparaged his mother; he was as civil as he could get with his words, keeping to himself comments that Nero was certain he would love to say. He didn't justify her depart or lack of sensibility for her own flesh and blood.

Eliza was a receptionist in a hotel Vergil frequented on his trips to Fortuna that, apparently, had been several for reasons that he didn't spoke about. He never truly explained how or why their conversations turned into something more than a money and key exchange, and for Nero those simplicities didn't truly matter, they were tidbits that he wasn't particularly interested in hearing, and that thankfully Vergil didn't feel like sharing.

Vergil didn't know her at all and, the more he kept talking, the less Nero found himself yearning to learn about her, not when she decided to cast him away like a pet that was left behind to die in some road that led nowhere; it would've been a matter of time before Eliza's neighbor decided to abandon him either randomly on the street or outside one of the many churches in Fortuna is she felt like a good Samaritan.

That, until Vergil showed up and reluctantly took the responsibility off from her hands. Nero could pick up the pieces from that point on.

When Nero woke up the next day, everything he was told seemed hazy, nearly surreal. He thought that every word that came out of his father's mouth would be permanently inked inside of his brain, but the truth was that he remembered fractions of it, and turned it into a watered-down version of the story that didn't exactly made it less painful than it was.

And, even if he didn't know exactly how, he realized that something between him and his father changed. It almost made him feel uncomfortable at some point.

Sighing, he stepped out of his room, momentarily shielding his eyes from the harsh light coming from the windows before catching sight of Vergil on the dining table reading a newspaper.

Nero was going to regret not getting that out of his chest, he knew it. It was now or never.

"I, uh…I'm glad you stuck with me." Nero tried to make it sound casual, but inevitably knew that even if his routinely actions of making breakfast brought that sense of regularity there was no context where it ever could sound as a simple comment.

His silence meant more than any word he could've said.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.<p> 


	16. Invisible monsters III

Nero pretended he didn't wake up when Vergil sometimes entered his room in the middle of the night. The fact that he slept with the blankets dragged all the way up to the bridge of his nose helped hide the grimaces he made when those incidents occurred.

He couldn't say that it bothered him too much, after all, all Vergil did was close the window when he forgot to do so or shut the curtains; he wasn't the kind of guy that would soothingly arrange the blankets if his kid stirred all night and they had fallen off into the floor –he knew because he did it twice or three times, and only got as much as a glance-, what Vergil occasionally did was push his shoes under the bed so when he woke up he wouldn't trip and hit his head with the edge of the nightstand.

He never understood why he did that, and he wanted to believe that it was to check if he was still breathing or something among those lines.

One night, he heard tapping coming from the window in a pattern; at first they were soft, barely audible taps until they escalated to the sound pebbles would make when thrown against the window. Frowning and with his eyes closed, Nero slowly opened them and took in the sight of his room illuminated by the moonlight that was filtrating through a small part in the curtains where a metal coat hanger he left with a dirty sweater was making the gap.

He couldn't hear the gentle sounds that rain made when it clashed against the crystal, or gusts of wind that dragged with leaves and small branches with force. Everything looked the same, and all he saw was a darker version of the place he knew like the back of his hand...That, until he focused on the gap between the curtains.

There was something trying to peek from the outside, a pale figure with penetrating black eyes that moved left and right slowly, taking in every detail from his room and ultimately trying to find him. He just knew that it wanted _him_ and that it wouldn't rest until it got what it wanted. There was something grotesque about the way its eye moved or the way its skin looked so pale that it was almost translucent when struck with moonbeams.

He could only see one eye now, perfectly focused on him and then a clawed hand slowly started to appear from the window frame, dark long nails contrasting against pale skin and a sound that felt as if were amplified as the tip of the nail tapped against the window gently once, twice and three times.

Nero didn't scream, but continued to stare, trying to find shape to the inhuman face in front of him with his brows still furrowed and wondering if it was all a bad dream.

The next thing he remembered was Vergil storming into his room, taking one long look to the window and ushering outside with a firm command, never explaining why. Nero continued to stare at the window and reacted only when Vergil took him by the arm and gave him a gentle push to get him out of bed.

Still frowning, Nero took his pillow under his arm and dragged the blanket on top of his bed, letting it drag behind him as he made his way to the couch and let his body fall into the soft cushions before wrapping the soft fabric around his shoulders.

The door to his room was closed when he turned to stare.

The next couple of days he slept at his father's room; the first two nights he stayed in a chair beside the bed staring out the window; Nero offered to pass him a book or if he wanted help bringing the small TV on his room to his father's but he refused.

After that, Nero found out he spent the night on his room.

Those memories were hazy to him because he was not older than six when it happened, yet Vergil always denied that ever happened.

To this day, Nero found it hard to believe that it was a just a nightmare or a lucid dream and that there was more to the story than simply a monster taking form in his head.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.<p> 


	17. Guns

The situation at hand was far more difficult than Nero believed it would be.

It took him a couple of days to coax Dante to let him borrow one of his guns for practice, they were his precious 'guys' and there was no way he was simply going to hand one of them to him without questioning whether or not he was going to properly take care of it.

The deal got sealed with a large pizza and the cheapest beer Nero could get being underage, which was another spiteful journey when he had to convince the elderly clerk in charge of one of the small supermarkets close to Devil May Cry that he was over 21 and rudely asked him to stop questioning him and take his money, which he didn't believe, so Nero was doomed to stand outside and ask around until some guy decided to help him out and bought a six pack instead of the bottle of 40 ounces of malt liquor he asked for and told him to 'have fun'.

He wasn't having fun.

Dante would probably eat the whole pizza in one sitting and Nero was positive he was going to find the two slices he hid in the back of the fridge and devour them too. Nero had a headache, the gun was definitely heavier than he imagined, the cans he placed on top of a box as targets kept falling over as the wind blew and he had to waste around 10 minutes to find pebbles that would fit the opening of the can.

Sighing, he raised the weapon and tried to shoot one of the cans and failed miserably as the bullet made a hole in the wall behind the can.

He frowned and stared at the weapon on his hands. He blamed his bad aim on the trigger, the thing was too loose and that was probably throwing him off and not giving him enough time to check the direction of the shot. Yeah, that seemed like a plausible excuse.

He raised the gun and aimed towards one of the cans, telling himself that he would try one more time before calling it quits and asking Dante to teach him although, knowing Dante, his lesson would be to go outside, take the gun out of his hands, shoot and then giving it back and telling him to do the same. It wasn't the kind of enlightenment he was looking for.

"Left." A voice behind him said, and he resisted the urge to look back as he followed the voice and aimed slightly more to the left. He pulled the trigger and the bullet ricocheted a few inches on top of one of the cans. He inched his way down and shot a second time, piercing the top of the can and making it stumble backwards and towards the floor.

He was mentally preparing himself for mockery as he lowered the gun and turned around, yet Vergil's face didn't show an ounce of the malicious amusement he sometimes demonstrated.

"I thought you didn't like guns."

"That does not mean I don't know how to shoot one."

Nero raised an eyebrow and huffed, giving him a small smirk. "So, you're going to help me with this?"

"I already did."

"Oh, come on!" Nero shouted as Vergil retreated towards the shop, leaving him alone.

Sighing, he pointed the gun towards one of the three remaining cans and, before shooting, tried to mimic his previous shot even if it looked a bit off, and shot.

It hit right in the middle.

* * *

><p>This was inspired by a part on season one of The Walking Dead; if you're looking for a new game to play I highly recommend it.<p>

Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	18. Poison

There was blood on his coat and hair and his breathing was irregular.

Nero could hear the sound of it clearly from a few feet away, it sounded strange, like something was boiling inside of him and trying desperately to get out and he was trying not to spill it.

Blood started to come out of his mouth; at first it was a thin strand of liquid cascading from his lip and dropping into the floor, but quickly it became more a flow of red that came with small blood clots the size of a dime.

Vergil didn't look up when Nero foolishly asked if he was alright, he kept fixated in one spot on the wall, almost making him look like a wounded animal.

He faintly remembered calling his father's name and receiving nothing in exchange, not even when he kneeled by his side and started to shook his body to get some sort of reaction.

He looked lost, his pupils were dilated and the white of his eyes had a sickly yellow tint to them that made a strange contrast against the pulsating mesh of bright red veins.

"Don't do this to me…"

At that point, Nero didn't know if the wet feeling on his face were tears or Vergil's blood from when he tried to open his mouth to see if something was stuck on his trachea yet there was nothing there and all he managed to get out of Vergil was a burbling cough that stained the flesh on his arm and forearm when he tried to shield it from his face.

Nero was scared, there was no use denying it, especially when his hands were shaking and all traces of annoyance where he heard thumping sounds in the living room when Vergil half-dragged himself from the door to one of the loveseats disappeared completely along with whatever traces of sleep where on him.

He didn't know what to do, and that fact was the one that made his blood run cold and made invisible droplets of cold sweat appear all over his body.

He was too small to move his father – and after a few seconds of thought, he decided that it wouldn't have been a good idea-, he took off his cloak and tried to find a wound but saw nothing more than a small pinch at the side of his neck that look like a bug bite, and that couldn't have been the cause of Vergil's strange illness.

It wasn't something viral like a flu or something eaten in a bad state, those kind of afflictions where foreign to Vergil, so whatever was happening to him was caused by something else, something that Nero at his age could not even begin to comprehend or know about in the first place.

He got the biggest glass he could find in the kitchen drawers, filled it with water and left it at the Vergil's feet but not even got a glance; he tried to make him hold a bowl so he wouldn't stain his clothes further with fluids but Vergil didn't budge, and Nero's small hands were wrapped so tightly around the container that his knuckles turned white and his complexion pale every time the warm liquid did as much as splatter small drops on his skin.

He could hear his own heartbeats like an agitated symphony and, in a sort of hazy trance, he managed to leave Vergil on his own for a few minutes to fetch his old red flip cellphone that used to belong to Dante that became his birthday present a few months ago.

Nero couldn't really remember what he said, maybe because he stuttered and vaguely tried to form complete sentences as he kept fixated on his father's unmoving form.

Ten minutes passed, maybe more or maybe less, when Nero heard a motor roaring in the distance that quickly became louder as it approached his position, tires screeched noisily outside before the motor died and Dante appeared through the door, soaking and dripping water into the floor.

Nero didn't realize that it had started to rain outside.

Dante looked startled as he burst through the door, hair sticking to his face as a result of the rain and with a cloak that was dripping so much water it left a small trail behind him along with mud coming from the soles of his shoes.

He had something tucked under his arm, something that looked like a knife roll held closed with a tick string. Dante kneeled beside Vergil and rolled open the strange container that actually didn't contain any knifes but rather strange-looking stones, a small red-covered book and things that didn't truly make sense to Nero.

"I'll take it from here, kid; go to your room or something. He'll be fine." Dante didn't sound too convincing, but it was the best thing that came out of his mouth to try to calm him down.

"Verge, can you hear me? Can you blink?"

Nero obliged and went back to his room, dragging his feet and resisting the urge to look back.

He thought that, if there was nothing Dante could do, he rather not watch and do nothing about it.

* * *

><p>This story just hit 100 reviews! Thank you so much for all the support, I really appreciate it.<p>

Disclaimer: Devil May Cry and its characters belong to Capcom.


	19. Cold II

Things were starting to go downhill after that day.

Nero felt hollow, empty. Coming back to their place – that was now only _his_ place, no matter how uncomfortable that sounded- felt odd and surprisingly cold, lacking the quiet presence that would regularly be spotted sitting in one of the high chairs of the dining table or seemingly relaxing while reading a book in one of the loveseats. Nero didn't even dare to look into the hallway and stare into the closed door of Vergil's room.

He stopped picking up Dante's calls, hoping that he would take the hint that he wanted to be left alone, at least for the time being. He just knew he was going to screw things over with his uncle if he picked up one of his calls. After all, Nero's stages of sorrow were different than Dante's.

Dante started drinking a little more and spent most of his time behind the doors of his shop. He felt responsible for what he did, and for a fairly good reason, _he_ was the one that did it. Nero couldn't even imagine how it must've felt to realize that the enemy he was toying with and that caused him as much suffering as he gave back was his brother.

But even if he was aware of that, it didn't make things easier.

He'd cried and repressed the urge to sob and scream until he managed to make his throat feel sore, he said things to Dante in the spur of the moment that, if he had been in better shape to actually listen to him, would've left scars that were going to be difficult to erase.

But now, Nero was upset.

He'd trashed everything around him, broken mirrors and pictures hanging from the walls, meaningless ornaments and even one of the sofas in half in blind rage.

It swallowed it. His Devil Bringer swallowed one of the two things he had left.

He'd screamed, gritted his teeth, tried long and hard to get it out of there but it was a lost cause, he couldn't do it, it was lost somewhere in that strange limb that he couldn't begging to understand just yet.

And there was nothing he could do to get it back, nothing but wait and hate that part of himself that he wished was never there in the first place, even if now was the only thing that made him feel 'connected' with his father.

He still had the pendant hidden somewhere in one of his room's drawers, refusing to do as much as glance at its direction every time he entered the room. Wearing it felt wrong, like he wasn't worthy enough to be able to garb it.

More and more he found himself stating that the apartment didn't feel like home at all; he felt foreign in a place that held too many memories attached so eventually, he made up his mind and left it behind for a small one bedroom apartment in Fortuna.

It took him months to gather enough courage to start wearing his father's pendant, and even more so to figure out there was a part of Vergil living deep within him. Dante had been the one that pointed out the resemblance of his Devil Trigger to Vergil's when they found themselves fighting together, and to his surprise and relief, he'd mentioned that his Devil was wielding Yamato. It made him feel oddly connected with Vergil, even if was impossible for him to be.

He constantly regretted all the things he wasn't able to say, and the ones that he did but didn't truly mean, but those things were in the past now, buried deep within memories he tried hard to forget.

Nero found it hard to believe in a god when everything turned out to be the way it was but sometimes, he liked to believe that he would meet his father in the afterlife, even if the thought dissipated quickly and he labeled it as bullshit.

For now, all he could do was make a shadow of what Vergil used to be, and for now that was more than enough to honor his memory.

* * *

><p>I would like to thank everyone for the continuous support you've been giving me from the beginning with this idea, I never thought this was going to work out as well as it did.<p>

I decided to end it here because I'm trying to adapt to college and everything surrounding it and unfortunately that limits my time. It's not fair to keep you waiting nearly a month for a short update; I find it very annoying when that happens to the stories I read and promised that I would never do that, but look how that turned out.

I'm really grateful for all your reviews, favorites and alerts and mostly because you gave this story -and me- a chance.

So once again, thank you for everything.


End file.
